


A Real Big Fucking Mess

by daisybrien



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Manga Spoilers, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Armin was right," Jean says. "We're not good people anymore."</p>
<p>She can't even deny it. (For JeanSasha Week. Slight spoilers for Chapter 64).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Real Big Fucking Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case you havent read the summary, there are spoilers if you havent read the last chapter. Just so you know.

The two of them find refuge outside an abandoned barn off the trail back to Sina, their backs resting against its rotting, crumbling wall. Noises drift through the gaps in the dilapidated wood, the sound of boots scuffling through old hay and hurried murmurs accompanying the clank of metal gear and the rare ripping of bandages. Their aching shoulders press against each other as they huddle near the small fire, sparks of flames floating up into the air like flickering stars against the black canvas of the night sky.

Sasha’a eyes follow them upward, watching them glow and fade. She pulls an arrow from her quiver, still nestled against her hip in the damp grass, prodding the fire. The crackling of firewood lulls her into a dreamlike state, each pop and hiss drowning out the murmuring chaos stirring inside of the barn.

She almost jumps when Jean breaks the silence, one hand reaching for her bow at the sudden low rasp in her ear.

“We killed people today.”

She turns to look at him with a racing heart, muscles stiff. Shadows dance across his face, casting eerie shapes over his skin, pronouncing the hollows under his eyes. Bruises smatter his jaw, dark purple flowers blooming on the pale of his face. He stares distractedly with wide eyes at the rising flame, the red glow dancing in his pupil.

“We’ve always had to kill people,” Sasha whispers. She pushes the arrow deeper into the fire, pulling it away with flame eating away at the tip. She watches the fingers of flame lap their way up the shaft towards her hand, burning heat itching at her knuckles before throwing the end into the pit in front of them.  
A groan breaks through the dull buzz of movement inside the stable, bordering on a wail of pain, followed by a flow of garbled gibberish, unmistakably Hange’s voice. The image of a bloody coyote flits through her mind, bloody and barely conscious, howling in agony at the metal trap clamped around one mangled limb. It makes her shudder.

“I know but,” his voice is frantic, a high-pitched squeak almost taking a tone of desperation. “It’s different this time. I was so close to him. I looked him in the eye, and then I just-“

His voice cracks, tears starting to well in his eyes. He looks down at his hands, bandaged and bruised, spots of dried blood peeling on his trembling fingers. She leans into him, one hand moving to squeeze his shoulder.

“Jean,” she says tentatively, as if the words could startle him like a scared animal.

“There’s blood on my hands,” he whispers, his eyes growing wide as gleaming saucers. Her first instinct is to back away from him like she would an animal, his expression wild and almost feral. 

His face crumples, tears beading in the corner of his eyes. His hands start to twist around each other, nails dragging furiously against his skin, scratching frantically at the red stains deep in the crevices of his knuckles, etched in his palms. 

“Hey,” Sasha exclaims in alarm, a warning, trying to get his attention. She moves closer to him, wet earth squelching under her thighs, her hands clasping his. “Hey, that’s enough. We’re not going to have any of that. None of that.”

He looks up at her from under furrowed eyebrows, eyes pained and startled. His hands clutch onto hers, their fingers lacing together. His head falls forward, a heavy weight thumping onto Sasha’s collarbone, and she has to stifle a yelp when his forehead hits a fresh wound through her cloak. 

“None of that, no tears,” Sasha hums, repeating the words like a mantra, her arms twisting around Jean’s shuddering shoulders. Her palm moves to cradle the back of his neck, fingers brushing through the fine hairs there, brushing over gauze and bandages. “It’s over now. We did what we had to do.”

Jean slowly emerges from the cradle of her arms, jaw clenched and eyes red. They slip into an awkward silence, bodies hot pressed against each other. The fire grows stronger in front of them, the heat burning at Sasha’s face like an itch.

“We got ourselves into a real big fucking mess,” Sasha mutters.

“Yeah.”

She feels Jean shift beside her, one arm winding its way around the small of her back. She moves into him, her head fitting into the groove of his armpit, her nose catching a whiff of sweat and dirt and burning firewood in the fabric of his shirt. She places a hand on his thigh. His head moves to lie on hers.

“Armin was right,” Jean says. “We’re not good people anymore.”

Sasha opens her mouth to speak, inhaling, only to give a whoosh of a sigh in response, unable to find the words to prove him wrong.

She can’t even deny it.

Instead she only wiggles in closer, finding refuge from the chaos of her mind nuzzled against Jean’s body. His cloak shrouds part of her vision, muffles the sounds drifting out from the barn walls, shielding her ears from another groan of pain, the sound of the barn door creaking open as someone, boots thumping away through the grass.

She closes her eyes, her breathing falling in rhythm with his, and tries to forget the image of her burning arrow sinking into the chest of Reiss’ henchmen.

**Author's Note:**

> The panel in 64 where Jean slices that guy's throat really hit me hard. Just a few chapters ago he couldn't bring himself to shoot a person, and he's come really far from that, even though his development might not be for better. I'm still so upset for these two, they're doing things no teenagers should ever have to face.
> 
> Someone get my children out of SnK and somewhere safe they don't deserve this.


End file.
